Not Just a Hunter
by Cricket Watson
Summary: Gale POV, no longer a one-shot. After the scene in Catching Fire when Gale finds out from Katniss that there's an uprising in District Eight, centers around Gale's thoughts about Katniss planning to run away and deals with the whipping.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – I'm just playing in the world of Hunger Games, owned by Suzanne Collins.

A/N – I wanted to know more of what Gale was thinking following the scene in pages 93-100 in Catching Fire. I tried to write Gale as in-character as possible. Reviews/constructive criticism encouraged! Special thanks to my mom and my best friend for beta reading.

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><p>The air whipping at my face is chillingly sharp, hinting of new snow. I breathe it in, welcoming the pain of it in my lungs. Facing the wind always makes me feel stronger.<p>

Especially when the wind is bringing change.

Rebellion. Revolution. In District Eight, and hopefully elsewhere as well. That knowledge sends so much fire through my body that I hardly feel cold, even though my bow creaks from the chill as I carefully stow it and my arrows inside a hollow tree. The turkey I shot earlier is hanging from my belt.

Soon, I promise myself, I'll be using my weapons on more than just turkeys, squirrels and deer.

But I will probably be fighting alone.

The irony of the whole situation is that Katniss is the one who won the Games. She's the better shot with a bow, and she's learned how to kill. I know, because I watched her end the life of that District One boy who murdered her ally, Rue. I watched her send her final arrow into Cato's skull.

I watched until the end, when she pulled out those berries. That's when I realized that Katniss would become a symbol for rebellion against the Capitol.

Only I knew having a symbol and actually having an organized revolution are two different things.

As a symbol, Katniss is a target of President Snow's retribution. I know how our enemy thinks. I understand how he's been trying to suppress her impact by having Katniss and Mellark presented as lovers, but even their engagement won't be enough. Snow will make Katniss suffer. There's no getting around that fact. And without a revolution, her suffering would be useless. My family's suffering would be useless. That's why I would have run away with her and our families, when she suggested it earlier.

Before she mentioned the uprising in District Eight.

We can't just think about ourselves anymore. I told her that. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for us to fight to change our world. And in my opinion, fighting to end suffering in all the districts is worth suffering in the process.

But Katniss is not a fighter.

The fence that encircles District Twelve looms ahead of me, and I realize I've been walking back. I stop and listen for any hum of electricity, cursing myself for getting lost in thought. Coming home through the woods without my bow is not the wisest time to be contemplating this mess.

The electricity isn't on, but I stand there for a minute without moving toward the fence.

I shouldn't have been so harsh on Katniss. I've always known she's a survivor instead of a fighter. When we'd be out together in the woods, before all this happened, I was the one who would rant against the Capitol. Katniss was the one who listened.

Not that Katniss didn't confide in me back then. The poverty in our district would make her angry too, especially on days when desperate Seam parents brought their starving kids to her mother. But even then, her anger was different than mine.

Katniss takes things so personally, as if protecting the helpless and avenging the dead is a mission resting entirely on her shoulders. I don't understand that. Not everyone in this fight is going to survive, and if war comes, we won't have time to reflect on every casualty. That's why the only mission I have is to see the Capitol fall.

But we know how to disagree. Just because she thinks differently than I do doesn't mean I love her any less.

I hope she knows that.

_What if she doesn't? _A gust of wind makes a hollow noise through the pine trees, and I fumble with my jacket, suddenly cold. _She'll run off with Mellark._

No. I meant what I said, about everything. Katniss may not be aware of very much, but she knows I don't play games. If she does choose to leave with Peeta Mellark, she'll do it knowingly.

The thought somehow makes me calmer. It's up to Katniss now.

I finally slide under the loose spot in the fence and trek across the Meadow, then cut through a few backyards as I make for the Head Peacekeeper's house. I don't usually let my mind drift, but now that I've sorted out my thoughts about Katniss, all I can think about is how to plan an uprising.

It's not until I'm knocking on Head Peacekeeper Cray's back door that I realize my mistake. There's something wrong. I should have noticed sooner.

Usually, a Peacekeeper or two standing around outside the house will call out with a bid for the drumsticks if they see me approach with a bird. But today, there's no sign of anyone. And the back porch has been swept clear of Cray's broken liquor bottles.

I'm about to turn and run when the door slides soundlessly open.


	2. Chapter 2

So the first chapter of this story was supposed to be a one-shot, but now here is this too! ;) District11grl convinced me to write more. There may be more coming too!

Disclaimer again - love is different from possession. I love Hunger Games; don't own it.

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><p>"<em>I love you."<em>

I told her. It must have been less than an hour ago. She'd been happy, with her forehead pressed against mine, and I couldn't help but say it.

Now I wish I'd said it a thousand times.

Because I know I won't live to say it again.

When they dragged me to the square, the cold, rasping voice of new Head Peacekeeper Thread announced a vague "punishment" by whipping.

But his black eyes promised me death.

Maybe I should have tried to run, and taken a bullet instead. I stare straight ahead as Peacekeepers who have enjoyed the spoils of my illegal activities for years secure my hands to a post. Too late now.

I've grown up taking out tesserae and hunting illegally. I couldn't allow myself to be afraid of death, or I'd be living in constant fear as well as in constant hunger.

Now I am afraid. But not of dying.

I'm afraid I've failed.

Despite the threats of being reaped or killed for poaching, I always thought I'd die fighting the Capitol.

Not like this. Not over the stupid turkey that one of the Peacekeepers has nailed above my head.

"_This isn't about the turkey,"_ something whispers inside me, and the new Head Peacekeeper's cruel stare burns in my mind. _"This is about power."_

Thread and his whip have power over my death. But in the bigger game, I know who has the most power.

Katniss.

Maybe I haven't failed. Maybe my death will be what finally makes her fight.

A hush falls over the people in the square, reminding me of the way animals in the woods quiet down just before the first crack of lightning.

I can't turn my head to look, so I can only hope none of my family are here, watching. Suddenly I'm fighting down panic as I think of my mother and Rory, Vick and Posy. _"Katniss, don't let them starve." _

Then the lightning strikes.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer again - although I'm not sure I needed to include another one - but anyway Suzanne Collins is amazing and brilliant and sweet and humble and owns The Hunger Games. 

_"You've seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain."_- Catching Fire, p. 125 

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><p>Katniss.<p>

She's crying out as she touches her burn wound with shaking hands. I can't cry out. I can't breathe. I'm leaning against the shaking wall of my family's main room – only I know it's not the wall that's shaking.

Katniss is two feet away from me, on a screen.

Katniss is unreachable in a Hunger Games arena, trapped up in a tree, in agony.

I can feel the eyes of my mother and siblings as they huddle together on the couch, but no one speaks. Maybe they know that if I had to reply, it would break the barrier between my lungs and air. Then I would have no choice but to scream out my anger, my helplessness.

The camera's still on her face.

A faint taste of blood in my mouth mocks me, because the sting of biting into my lip isn't enough.

Not compared to her pain.

_Why can't I take her pain away?_

It's not a question; it's a plea. _Let me step through the screen and take her place._

I hear her crying out again, but something's changed. The television is inexplicably blank, glowing with the seal of Panem.

I push myself away from the wall and look at the empty couch across the room. Confusion hits me, but I can still hear Katniss's voice. Somehow I know she and my mother aren't far away. I take a step and trip, sprawling out on the rough wooden floor.

Breath is knocked back into my lungs.

Pain comes with it. 

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><p>Katniss.<p>

She's screaming. Not in pain, but in anger. In helplessness.

I try to say her name, try to find her, but pain burns my vision to gray when I move.

I struggle one last time as her screams fade. Why is she always unreachable?

"She's alright," my mother's voice quietly assures me.

No, she's not.

She's here, wherever I am. But she was going to run.

One breath in, one breath out. All I can smell is blood and it makes me see memories of her, crouched over a dead coon or a squirrel, granting me one of her rare smiles as she skins her most recent kill.

Which reminds me – I thought I was dead.

Maybe I am. I'm burning.

_She wanted to run_.

It has to be now, if she's going. Even tomorrow will be too late. The new Head Peacekeeper will be watching. And he would find her.

But I don't want her to go.

The pain that consumes my body begins to invade my head. I can't fight it. I want to fight it. It's dark, paralyzing nothingness, but it's beyond my control.

Just like Katniss is. 

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><p>AN: Hello again, I finally finished this story... sorry it took so long to update. FYI, if this scene feels a little disorganized and/or confusing, it's because Gale's obviously drifting in and out of conscious and I wanted to convey that confusion. The scene takes place at page 114 in Catching Fire when Gale hears Katniss yelling at her mother, so it's before he gets the shot of morphling and a while before the kiss. Sorry I didn't write the kiss. In correlation with THG trilogy, I like ending stories on a more ... ominous note (unless you review and persuade me otherwise). :D Thanks for reading! - Cricket


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